


sharing

by jedormis (dottie_wan_kenobi)



Series: help, i've soulmate ficced again, and i can't stop doing it [15]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dick Grayson is Robin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Insecurity, Light Angst, No Romance, Not Beta Read, Platonic Relationships, Soulmates, Timeline What Timeline, Touch-Starved, Young Dick Grayson, sorta - Freeform, young batdad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/jedormis
Summary: Dick and Bruce have a talk about soulmates.----------------After another giggle tapered out against his chest, he whispered, “For the record, I think Koriand’r is a lovely name, and we will welcome them into our home when the time comes.”After a lengthy background check, that was, but he would never deny his son his happiness.Dick sighed contentedly, finally peeking his head out enough for Bruce to see shining blue eyes. His smile was wide, and the sense of foreboding came just as he asked, “What about your ‘mate? Will we welcome them into our home?”





	sharing

**Author's Note:**

> Idk about timelines and also I just plain don't know a lot about DC nor have I ever written in the DC universe before except for a single Young Justice fic years ago so. Bare with me please. This is very self indulgent of me too but this is mainly a Bruce&Dick story with no romance. Thanks for reading <3

“Bruce?”

The man in question glanced down at his ward, who appeared right next to his chair, immediately noting the whisper and the way his voice trembled. A glint in his eyes revealed tumultuous emotions. Nerves, then, but what about? They’d had a good day, hadn’t they? Bruce had even managed to not fuck up too badly today. So why would the boy be nervous?

He whispered back, Alfred’s words about ‘meeting the child on his level’ ringing in his ears, “Yes, Dick?”

Without speaking, or even moving all that much, he conveyed that he wanted to climb into Bruce’s lap. He opened his arms, and the boy instantly curled into his chest, nearly purring at the touch. 

It was… odd, suddenly being touched all the time. He’d spent so many years with the only contact coming from Alfred or strangers, never for long, far from often, rarely kind. And now there was this boy, who prefered to have all conversations, no matter the topic, in his lap or on his shoulders or holding his hand or clutching his leg like a monkey. His touch was soft, a pat on the cheek or a quick hug or a pressure on his back from all the piggy back rides. Even when they sparred, the blows were softened, the scratches hitting air instead of skin. He was always, unconsciously gentle, and it made Bruce’s heart feel soft and vulnerable.

Here and now, he wrapped one arm around Bruce’s chest, the other one being forced between the chair cushion and his back. His little legs flopped over Bruce’s arm, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care much. Bruce closed his book around his finger, using his other hand to rest on the boy’s own back.

Yes, it was odd, but certainly welcomed.

Dick sighed briefly, pressing his forehead into Bruce’s chest. Louder, but muffled, he said, “Somethin’ happened today.”

He didn’t react except to swipe his thumb back and forth gently on the boy’s back. A reminder that he was there, that Dick was safe. That he could say what he needed to say without judgement. “Something happened? To you or our friend?”

“Me.” His voice trembled again, and Bruce’s thoughts started to turn. Dick had gone to school today, with neither him nor Alfred reporting anything different happening before or after. With all the major criminals in Arkham or lying low, Alfred had insisted they take the night off, and Bruce had agreed. So whatever happened could’ve only happened at school, which didn’t really lower the options, even if it had happened to Dick Grayson instead of Robin. Was it bullying? A rude teacher? He’d reported once that an angered substitute teacher had called him a slur, though he’d told Bruce immediately that time, not hours later. Maybe he’d gotten into a fight with another student, and hadn’t been caught. Hmm.

“What was it?”

Dick sighed again, and explained, “Well, we were talkin’ about soulmates in class, and then this kid I don’t know that well𑁋I mean we’re friendly but not  _ friends _ , you know?𑁋he asked me what my name was. And I thought, why not, can’t hurt, right? So I told him and he said it was a weird name and that my soulmate𑁋Bruce, he called them an ‘it’! An  _ ‘it’ _ !𑁋he said my soulmate is probably a freak and ugly and they’ll hate me and𑁋 “

“Dick,” Bruce said for the third time, finally managing to cut into the haze the boy had fallen into. “Dick, lad, stop. Breathe.”

He did, and his breath caught in a way that made Bruce’s chest tighten. “Why would he say that?” He demanded, hiding his face even more.

Bruce rubbed at his back again, giving himself a moment to think. It was hard to say the child didn’t know any better𑁋fourth graders should know very well how rude and hurtful those kinds of comments were. Especially fourth graders with rich parents who cared a lot about their reputations. Instead, he said, “Sometimes people do hurtful things for the hell of it. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe not. Either way, there’s always something you can do it stop them from doing the hurtful thing.”

“Like yell at them to shut up and throw a pencil at their head?”

A smile twitched at the corners of Bruce’s mouth. This was the sort of thing he was supposed to discourage, but how could he? Seemed like self defense to him. “If that’s what necessary, then yes. But if you’re going to throw something, you have to aim it correctly or you could really hurt someone.”

“I made sure it only hit him on the nose,” Dick replied, giggling. Relief bloomed lightly in Bruce. It was much easier to deal with Dick happy than sad and hurt.

“Oh good, I wouldn’t want to deal with any angry mothers,” he said loftily, knowing the boy would catch the joking nature of his words. After another giggle tapered out against his chest, he whispered, “For the record, I think Koriand’r is a lovely name, and we will welcome them into our home when the time comes.”

After a lengthy background check, that was, but he would never deny his son his happiness.

Dick sighed contentedly, finally peeking his head out enough for Bruce to see shining blue eyes. His smile was wide, and the sense of foreboding came just as he asked, “What about your ‘mate? Will we welcome them into our home?”

Unwilling to rise to the bait, he simply tilted his head. “Perhaps. If they want to be welcomed.”

Dick opened his mouth, most likely to make another comment, but suddenly his teeth were clicking shut and he was hiding his face again.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” When no response came, Bruce allowed his more paternal instincts (rare as they were) to take over. He dropped his book on the side table, and adjusted his son so he was being cradled like a baby (despite being much too old for this sort of thing). With his free hand, he cupped the boy’s head, gently massaging like he knew the late Mrs. Grayson used to do. “You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart.”

“What if𑁋“ His voice cracked, “What if they don’t wanna be with you ‘cause you have a kid?”

Oh. Bruce could work with that. With as much conviction as he could (and that was a lot), he said, “Well then, I would turn them away and be done with them. You’re a part of my life now, for better or worse, and if they cannot accept that, then I want nothing to do with them.”

That made Dick come out of hiding again. He stared at him for a long moment. “But𑁋“

“No. But nothing. I am a father, and if my soulmates cannot accept that, then I do not want or need them.”

Blue eyes shone with unshed tears, and for the first time, Bruce wondered why his normally happy and resilient son was so emotional tonight. It wasn’t close to the anniversary of his parents’ deaths, he knew that for certain. So what else could it be?

“Dick,” he said at the same time Dick said, “Bruce.”

“You go first,” they said together, making his son giggle again. Smiling, Bruce patted his back to tell him he could talk.

“You said… soulmates? Like, plural?”

“Yes.”

“What…. I mean, can I ask….”

“One of them is named Diana.”

“She sounds nice,” Dick said, even though they both knew a name gave no clues about personality (though he was aware the boy would argue about Chads and Brads and the like). “And the other?”

Bruce thought for a moment about Dick’s soulmate’s name. Koriand’r. Today hadn’t been the first time it’d been the source of bullying, though thankfully it didn’t happen often. Dick defended it fiercely, saying he thought it was perhaps the most beautiful (or handsome, depending on what his ‘mate wanted) name in all of existence! When he heard of people with names considered odd (usually just uncommon in American culture), he jumped on it. Though Bruce detested talking about his soulmates, he was aware it would help his son, so he said, “The other one is named Kal-El.”

He tried the name out a couple times, smile growing. “I like it. Kal-El. They sound really nice.”

Bruce playfully rolled his eyes, and giggles rang out, bouncing off walls that hadn’t seen such happiness in too long. “Dickie, you don’t know that.”

“Okay, but they’ll probably both be really nice and I’ll get to say I called it!”

“Of course,” Bruce laughed. Eventually, their mirth faded, and they were left there, holding each other in front of a dimming fire, right where Bruce used to sit in his own father’s lap. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about them. Alfred and Leslie know, and my parents did, but no one else.”

The expected teasing remark never came. Instead, Dick curled into him more, more than seemed physically possible, and said, “Thank you.” And then, sudden as anything, he was sobbing into Bruce’s body, climbing so he was actually sitting and tucking his head into the crook of his neck. His fingers clutched Bruce’s sweater, pulling it taut over his shoulders and around his waist. He narrowly missed kneeing him in the crotch, but he didn’t care, much more concerned with calming the boy down.

He hugged him, smoothing a hand down his shuddering back. The sound of his sobbing cut down to the bone, in a way Bruce had never experienced before he became a father, and more than anything, he wanted it to stop. When he was a boy, his parents would rock him when he cried, so he tried that now, a gentle movement punctuated by soft hushes.

Gasping against his neck, Dick wailed, “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with crying,” he murmured, uncomfortably aware he should take his own advice. “But this was what I was going to ask about𑁋how long have you felt… like this?”

“I𑁋I woke up this mornin’ and I just wanted to cry.” He gasped again, but it caught, and Bruce felt more tears slide down his cheeks and onto his neck. “When that boy said that stuff about Koriand’r, I…. I didn’t throw the pencil at him, I just went to the bathroom and cried.”

“Oh, Dickie….”

“But I don’t know why! ‘Cause I’m not sad. I’m  _ not _ . I’ve been having a really good month. M’not sad,” he cried.

“It’s okay to be sad𑁋“

“I’m not!”

“Okay, okay.”  _ Clearly you are,  _ he wanted to snap.  _ If you were happy, you wouldn’t be crying like this. _ But Alfred’s voice and his own logic stopped him. Not only would that help no one, this was reminiscent of something else. Slowly, he asked, “Do you think, maybe, that Koriand’r is sad, and you’re feeling what they’re feeling?”

Soulmates who could feel the emotions of the other(s) were rare, but not so rare it was unheard of. In most cases, Bruce had found, it meant that one of the ‘mates was not human. Dick was as human as they came, but the same couldn’t definitively be said for Koriand’r. He would never imply that they were an alien of any sort based on the name alone, as he’d heard rumors of gods with names like  _ Jason _ , but it was a possibility. 

Dick pondered that, and calmed gradually, though he refused to pull away even an inch. “Maybe,” he said.

“Is there any other evidence?” He knew that once Dick had a lead to follow, he’d be relentless until he had all the clues, the full picture. He was too much like Bruce in that manner.

“I guess… sometimes I get really angry or sad or happy but I never know why, ‘cause usually it’s when I’m doing stuff that wouldn’t make me angry or sad or happy like that.”

“Can you think of a specific example?”

He had to think for a moment, but then, “In music class a few weeks ago, we were learning Hot Cross Buns, and suddenly I felt like,” he sighed, obviously not liking what he was about to say, “like I was all alone in the world again. And I just wanted to, to hit somebody or cry or scream, but I didn’t, and when we were done, this girl asked if I was okay, and I just… ugh, Bruce, I was so mean to her. I said ‘I’m fine’ really meanly and she looked so sad and it made everything worse.” He slumped against Bruce, more tears soaking into the soft fabric under his cheeks. 

“That definitely sounds like you and Koriand’r are sharing emotions.” He didn’t want to think about how the other child must’ve felt when Dick lost his parents. Or how Diana and Kal-El felt when he lost his.

Dick groaned sadly into his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He tried to keep his voice quiet and level, firm but not angry. He wasn’t angry, not at all, but he was terrible at showing it.

“I thought I was getting better, I didn’t wanna admit I wasn’t,” Dick whispered, officially breaking Bruce’s heart into a million pieces. “And now I know I’m not, but my soulmate is sad. I don’t want them to be sad.”

The seed of an idea planted itself in Bruce’s mind, an idea that would help several problems all at once. “Should we start a new mission, then?”

“What mission?”

“One where we find things that make you happy, so we can make Koriand’r happy too.”  _ And Alfred _ , he thought, knowing the older man would be delighted with Bruce. He was always saying they needed to bond more, and Bruce needed to learn to be more paternal. Plus, making it a mission meant Dick would be committed to it, added intrigue, and allowed them to work on their public personas together. All while bolstering Dick’s soulmate with underlying happiness. Oh yes, this was a wonderful idea.

For a brief moment, excitement came over Dick, and he pulled away to laugh. Gears turned in his head visibly, probably making a list of all the things they could try and how to test how happy he was. Bruce’s lips twitched into a smile at the sight, but all too soon, it was gone. The smile faded, and his eyes dropped from his face to his chest.

“What is it?” Bruce asked, more tenderly than he’d thought himself capable of. 

Dick shrugged, grabbing one of Bruce’s hands and playing with his fingers, not looking up when he said, “Just tired, I guess.”

“Do you want me to𑁋“ he asked at the same time the boy timidly said, “Will you t𑁋”

“Go ahead,” Bruce prompted.

“Will you tuck me in tonight? I know I’m too old for that, I  _ know _ , but I𑁋“

“Of course I can, Dick.” Any other day and he would say no. Any other day and Dick wouldn’t ask. But tonight, he could make an exception.

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Dick said again, this time not dissolving into tears.

Without having to talk about it, Bruce stood slowly, allowing Dick to climb over his shoulder and settle his arms around Bruce’s neck and his legs around Bruce’s waist. Easily carrying his weight, Bruce entertained the idea of Diana and Kal-El meeting Dick, and couldn’t think of a single scenario in which they didn’t love him. Maybe that was wishful thinking, or maybe it was the love and affection being reflected back at him from all sides, contracting and expanding in his chest in the way only shared feelings could, messing with him.

“Bruce?”

“Yes, Dick?”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight? I𑁋I don’t wanna be alone.” His voice was wet, rough, quiet.

Bruce changed course slightly, murmuring assurances. Dick nuzzled into him more.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Or maybe Dick was just too precious for anyone to hate him.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, I will love you forever <3


End file.
